


First Your Money Then Your Clothes

by maaaaa



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:48:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23568613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maaaaa/pseuds/maaaaa
Kudos: 7





	First Your Money Then Your Clothes

‘That’s the way it always goes…first your money, then your clothes.”  
\- an old saying

The Volvo sputtered to a stop, heaving a last gut-wrenching screech of engine give-out as Blair eased her up against the curb. He got out and ran a hand lovingly over the hood, then quickly danced back with a startled hiss as the hot metal burned his palm. He waggled his hand and bounced on the balls of his feet, as he squinted up toward the sky, trying to judge the time.

Dark, menacing storm clouds chose that moment to roll and rumble, blotting out the sun.

“Great,” he mumbled. “Just damn freaking great. I can’t afford a new freakin’ watch, and now my poor baby---,” he flung his arms wide as if to pull the heap of metal into a warm embrace.

With a heavy sigh he turned and began jogging, hoping to make it the few blocks to the PD before he was so late Jim would be tempted to put out an APB on him. As he turned the corner, a large delivery van pulled out of the driveway right behind Blair’s baby, unblocking a bright yellow ‘Tow-Away Zone’ sign.

Blair hurried along the crowded sidewalk, making little headway as he darted in and out of the throngs of people who were apparently oblivious to his need for speed. Hoping to save some time, he scooted into an alley and picked up the pace, grumbling to himself about where he was going to come up with enough cash to give his precious the overhaul which might just be a bit overdue. And then there were the books he needed for next semester’s classes. And the cell phone bill. And it was his turn to buy groceries again. And he owed Jim two, no three, months back rent.

“I don’t care too much for money, money can’t buy me love,” he crooned under his breath with a snarky chuckle. “Can’t buy me lah-ove, everybody tells me so, can’t buy me lah-ove, no, no noooo…”

“John Lennon you ain’t,” a gruff voice snarled as a gun barrel was jabbed into his midsection from behind.

Blair lurched and stumbled as he raised his hands above his head. He rolled his eyes and glanced upward, beseeching the heavens as a large hand pushed him toward a brick wall.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Blair stated in an emphatic, exasperated voice.

“Do I look like I’m kidding, curlicue?” the voice answered.

Blair started to turn, but was quickly spun back to face the bricks with a sharp poke between his shoulder blades.

“Don’t look at me you twink,” Gruffy said. “I ain’t got all day, so let’s start by givin’ me your watch.”

Arms still extended above his head, Blair shook them slightly until the loose material slipped down, revealing bare wrists.

“Sorry, man, no watch,” he stated.

“No watch? No watch? What kinda guy don’t wear a watch?” he asked disbelievingly.

Blair started to answer, but Gruffy cut him off.

“Don’t answer that,” he spat. “Sheesh, this ain’t twenty friggin’ questions. Gimme your wallet.”

“All right, all right,” Blair answered placatingly. “It’s in my back left pocket, but I’m tellin’ you man, you’re not gonna be happy.”

Gruffy leaned up against Blair, pressing the elbow of his gun hand into Blair’s back, as he reached in and swiftly slipped the wallet out.

It only took a second for him to be not happy, just as Blair had warned. “No cash? No plastic? All’s you got is a goddam friggin Blockbuster rental card?”

“It’s expired,” Blair ventured gamely. “But, hey, it’s all yours.”

“Empty your pockets,” Gruffy ordered impatiently. “Come on, come on, hurry it up.”

Blair slowly pulled the lining out of all but one of his pockets, netting Gruffy about an ounce of lint balls, two mints and a condom. He dipped a hand into the last pocket and pulled out the last of his ready cash…seventy-six cents. And a button.

“Goddam, sonova---,” Gruffy swore.

Blair glanced around, looking toward the mouth of the alley and took note of at least four black and whites cruising on past. He was less than one block from the PD, being mugged in broad daylight. And things got better.

“Gimme your clothes,” Gruffy said.

“No. Way. My clothes? I’m wearing rejects from Goodwill here, man, not designer threads,” Blair huffed.

“I don’t care, I’m gonna have somethin’ to show for this lame ass waste of time,” Gruffy answered. “Shuck ‘em. Now.”

~*~*~*~

Ten minutes later Blair was at the end of the alley, forlornly eyeing the front doors of the Cascade PD half a block away, kitty-corner from where he stood.

He crossed his arms over his bare chest, shoving his hands into his armpits, feeling mighty exposed wearing nothing but a mismatched pair of socks with three toes poking out and faded olive green boxers that were threadbare enough to be just about equivalent to going commando.

A minute later, Jim emerged through the gleaming glass doors of the mighty bastion of those who Serve and Protect, and looked anxiously up and down the street.

His Sentinel, Blair ruminated with a smirk…in high gear ‘my guide is near and is need of my protection’ mode.

Blair fluttered a half-hearted wave as Jim’s gaze finally zeroed in on him.

Another minute and Jim was next to him, big-brothering and mother-henning him with incredulous looks and sympathetic shoulder clasping.

“Aw, Chief,” Jim consoled as Blair told his tale of woe. “Come on, buddy, let’s get you inside.”

Blair leaned into Jim’s embrace, and everything seemed just a little better.

They stepped out of the alley…and it started to rain.


End file.
